Curse of Ascendancy
by lLegendsl
Summary: The gods of Aernas are not to be trifled with. Each command absolute power over their domain, have innumerable followers and monsters, and are tasked with the safekeeping of the world. However, even with all their powers, they are still weak to influence. Sometimes, the greatest enemy is yourself...
1. Prologue

_Yo, lLegendsl here!_

_As you may or may not know, I've been in a little rough patch of life, trying to get everything straightened out. That's pretty much the reason I haven't been updating regularly. I'd just like to say I have no intention to quitting Infinite Chase or writing fanfics in general; it'll probably be a little longer before I can find it in me to continuously and regularly post things. This was just a little idea that I put on paper a long while ago, with upcoming/developing chapters. I hope this sates any bloodlust toward my lack of chapters~_

* * *

Once, there was nothing - there was only the Creator God. When the Creator God sculpted the universe for reasons unknown, there was no one else to share in its beauty, ugliness, and continued development. To ease the burden of maintaining the greatest of creations, the Creator God made several other beings to oversee and guide the world into continued creation, using the power that we mortals see as "good."

Thus, the four Goddesses were born.

Ernasis, goddess of courage and war. Lisnar, goddess of spirits and love. Armenian, goddess of wisdom and harmony. Agnesia, goddess of life and purity. Together, they created their own oasis in the endless and empty universe, a world blessed with beauty, life, and developing creativity. To celebrate their accomplishment and to honor their leader Ernasis, the world was given a name; Aernas.

However, there cannot be anything without its polar opposite. To continue to create, previous constructions must be destroyed. Tapping into the powers of "evil," the Creator God made beings with the duty of destruction. To prevent the conflicting forces from clashing, these beings were placed in another reality, who then fought, bickered, and killed before a superior race among them created their own civilization.

Thus, the Asmodians embraced their role of destruction.

These two powers were never meant to meet each other, and for a time it was true. The goddesses, now hailed as the Creators of Aernas, watched contentedly at the progress of the elves, dwarves, and human civilizations. As time passed, the goddesses fell in love with many of them, and with the assistance of their offspring, the land of Archimedia became the land blessed by gods. With the demigods as the leaders, they rallied the sentient races together to create the kingdom of Kounat. Under Kounat's rule, the elves developed more refined magic, and the dwarves' machinery became sturdier and more advanced. It was a golden age, where humans, elves, and dwarves cooperated to make a better life.

The Asmodians of Elyos, however, descended into war time and again as the weaker demons continued to challenge their rule. A tragedy occurred, involving a single Asmodian hero, and both sides of the war were practically decimated. Under the rule of the Asmodians once more, the demons slowly and painstakingly rebuilt. In a desire to end further wars, the Asmodians created a unified demonic army.

Sadly, it was not meant to be.

Unlike the Aernans, the Asmodian demons were well aware of another world, a world that symbolized everything opposite of theirs. That difference sparked fear in them, and eventually, the leader Heitaros Cratsus decided to end that fear the only way they knew how - through destruction.

The new war was swift and terrible, with both sides receiving heavy casualties. It began so quickly that not even the Asmodians had a chance to stop to reconsider or protest, and left the kingdom of Kounat, capital of Archimedia, in endless despair. The remaining three Goddesses rallied together, Agnesia having disappeared long ago, and led the Kounat army against the demonic horde. With each passing day, the bodies increased. In a last and desperate attempt to end the misery, Kounat activated the Aernas Hammer, a superweapon combining technology, magic, and the divine wrath of the gods. With one use, it ended the war. So powerful was the Aernas Hammer that it instantly vaporized the entire demonic infantry. Heitaros, heavily wounded and without an army, fled back to Elyos, and the surviving demons eventually followed suit.

The victory was not without sacrifices. Weakened and exhausted, the three Goddesses could no longer maintain their physical hold on Aernas. Reluctantly, they chose to return to their Creator God to recover, sealing off every portal between Aernas and Elyos as a final blessing. Those demons that did not make it back to Elyos began to corrupt the creatures of Aernas, giving birth to the first monsters and ending the era of peace that the world once was in. It seemed that the time of gods was over...

Long into the future, after the destruction of Kounat, in the absence of the Creators, a new line of gods took their place, known now as the Xenian Deities. No one knows how or when they appeared; perhaps they were an unknown creation of the Creators, or they were simply born out of the spirits of Aernas. They could even be the gods that left Archimedia under the care of the Goddesses. Whatever the case, the six Deities each embodied a certain area of influence, some crucial part to Aernan life.

Samsara, he who guides the Cycles of the world and herald of the original light.

Starkiln, avatar of Hellfire and anger, lord of all that burns above and below the world.

Yamini, owner of the scales of Judgement and symbol of cold, emotionless harmony.

Perseo, bearer of the darkness and Destruction within the earth and witness to its chaos.

Gaia, guardian of nature and gatekeeper of Life and death.

Thanatos, the one who looms over the shadow of Ascendancy.

Each area of influence is impossible without the others, yet each play a crucial role for every domain. In accordance to these unspoken laws, the Deities would not interfere with each other's doings. They would not fight. They would not trespass. Above all, they would not attempt to subjugate one another. For so long, these rules were abided by, and the Deities remained a respectful distance from one another.

Lately however, there have been rumors. Although the law of the Deities remains unbroken, there are dark whispers that the gods are no longer the same, hollow husks of their previous selves. They no longer speak, their domains unkept and silent, and their followers emanate a faint but unmistakable darkness. Every god is susceptible to influence, no matter how powerful, and it is rumored that they have fallen to the darkest kind. The one influence that all must fear, most of all gods.

The corruption, the curse, of Ascendancy.


	2. Corrupting Cycles

_With a rough start, lLegendsl should be back from his unofficial two-month haitus. He has found slight inspiration, and is no longer uber stressed about his current situation (he might still fly off the handle, complaining about brands of cereal, though). lLegendsl enjoys speaking in the third-person. Hope you'll enjoy this~_

* * *

Corrupting Cycles

* * *

In the depths of the murky Xenian swamplands, past the territory of the secretive natives and the watchful eyes of its two gatekeepers, there is a serene forest that remains seemingly undisturbed by civilization. However, should one look at it closely, there is what seems to be a massive brown construct reaching towards the heavens. Unlike the Forest of Life, where everything is composed of wildlife and flora, this temple-like tower, though clearly manmade, seems to blend in with the moss and lichen on the ground. To the unwary observer, this tower exterior might resemble an oversized tree, but inside is a holy ground dedicated to those who worship the cycles.

This is the Temple of Cuatal.

* * *

It all began with a brash declaration.

"Hey, did you know?" a Cuatal acolyte whispered, as if confiding some dark secret. "Our god of Cycles was the first to exist among the deities."

The priest who the young acolyte was exchanging knowledge with looked at him with askance. He had heard many things from acolytes, ranging from everyday preferences to their role to the divine, but this statement was... unique in a way. "What makes you say that?"

"Think about it. From the moment the Creators made Aernas, its cycle - from creation to destruction - began. With that, wouldn't Samsara have come to being?"

The priest nodded slowly, partly because of his large hat and partly out of caution. "Yes, but when Aernas was created, life was as well. That would mean that, from your reasoning, Gaia and Samsara found their roles at the same time. Roles were not assigned to the gods, like a hat full of slips with tasks written on them, and the gods, after the Creators, pulled a slip to get their duties. In reality, the gods received their area of worship and their name from the races of Aernas."

"But would that mean that Samsara has the greatest power bestowed upon him?"

"Young man, all roles are equally vital and powerful."

At this, the acolyte looked the priest in the eye with his own red fell orbs. With a imperceptible smile, he replied, "But all roles have to start _somewhere, _which implies a cycle. That would mean that, indirectly, Samsara was the one who bestowed the gods their identity... and he could take it back from them if he so wished, no?"

Slightly disturbed now, the priest shooed the acolyte away with a flick of his wrist. "Begone! I've heard enough of your reasoning; such thoughts may compliment our god Samsara, but they border blasphemy to the other gods. Beware of their wrath!" With a slow exhale, he glared at the acolyte before walking past to attend to his clerical duties.

When he heard the large door shut behind him, the acolyte smiled darkly. It may take a little longer than expected, but the seed was planted. He turned to the marble statue of Samsara that loomed over their conversation.

"Beware the gods' wrath, huh?" Running his hands through his red hair, he let out a large _hmph_. "There will only be one god to fear soon."

Muttering a few words, he vanished into the shadows, eager to deliver the news to his master.

* * *

Those words would not leave the priest's mind. **Samsara bestowed the gods their identities...he could take them back...**

_No!_ Vigorously shaking his head, the priest stormed to the archives for something, anything, to get these infernal thoughts out of his head. The whispers only grew louder the closer he got to the temple's library. _Gods damn it! Why won't these thoughts leave my head?!_ The priest refused to believe what the boy said. He was a humble servant of the gods, devotee to Samsara. He would not dare do anything to belittle the others with some little show of favoritism. _Seriously, what was that lad thinking? I can't exactly preach about how our god is mightier than the others - not that he is! But..._

**Still don't believe?**

The priest froze. **Follow... follow...** This was not just some lingering thought, he realized. This eerie, tempting voice... someone or something was talking to him. "Who's there?!" he shouted into the empty room, his slightly raised voice echoing back to him. In response, the voice tugged at his mind towards the back of the dusty archives, towards the sealed Forbidden Section.

Reluctantly, the priest followed, breathing and sweating heavily. With trembling hands, the priest undid the seal; only those who taught were allowed into the Forbidden Section, and even then only with another person. Many dangerous secrets about the gods, primarily Samsara, were hidden here. He should not be doing this - he would _never_ have done this. So why... why did it feel so _right_?

Immediately upon undoing the seal, the smell of musty tomes and magic residue sailed through the now open door. Hidden from the rest of the temple was a little room with shelves half-full with books. It seemed like any other place in the archives, but upon the desk within were two things that were distinctly out of place - a pulsating green orb with the symbol of Samsara and an open book titled A Compendium of the Arts of Cycles: the Unrestricted Edition.

_What is the Orb of Cycles doing here? _Upon closer examination, the priest determined it to be a replica - there was no divine feeling emanating from the orb - but the power it held within was still nothing to scoff about. Waiting for a brief minute, the priest heard no more from the dark voice. _So this is what I was supposed to see?_ The priest sighed in relief. If this was all, then maybe he would be able to get some peace now. Now curious, he removed his hat and set it on the desk before reading the pages the book was open on. It was on a chapter stressing over how the six gods of Xenia were interlinked. The section between the relation of Life and Cycles was circled heavily, as if it was the main goal of the previous reader. The passage read:

_ "Perhaps no two powers are so closely related as Life and Cycles. Our birth is a symbol of unity between the two; from then on, we carry Life within us, and we pass through our lifespan in a common Cycle - we are born, we experience our childhood, we become adults, we grow old, and we die. Just as birth is their unity, death is where they split. The Cycle of the soul may go on, but the Life of the body is over. _

_ This is where priests of Cuatal began their debate on achieving immortality. The Life of the body may be over, but only because Cycles determines it to be so. The soul is unrestrained by Life and remains intact, which is primarily why necromancy is a valid, though controversial, art. Therefore, if one reverses the Cycle of the body to before Life ended, the soul would rebind with the body; it would be perfect resurrection similar to the art of the Druids._

_ There are benefits to performing resurrection this way. Unlike necromancy, the target will emerge as truly alive. Also, anyone can learn this method unlike Druid arts, which are only able to be taught to elves. Any body in any condition can be used, so long as an adequate amount of their Cycle has been reversed (which means enough magical energy); the more recent the death, the easier the incantation._

_ The primary reason this is a theoretical art is because one requires a medium very closely related to Samsara, God of Cycles. Very few artifacts meet this criteria; without the blessing and symbol of Samsara, no amount of power can turn back time. Many rituals have been thought of, but all have been stopped by lack of material (see Cycle Ritual Examples). "_

"..." Could it be? Could this really be true? The priest glanced at the dormant emerald ball that laid next to the book. _An artifact with the blessing and symbol of Samsara._ Sure enough, that false orb met the requirements. The question is: how did this mystery person do it? It almost seemed too good to be true. Samsara rarely blessed mortal objects with his symbol. The man vigorously shook his head. What was he thinking? A ritual for immortality, right before him, with all the materials given as if it was a birthday gift. If he perfected it, no one would die. Everyone would worship him. He would be one giant step closer to being closer to his god. _Yes...Yes! _The man began giggling in hysterical delight. The power to control the other gods without trespassing their boundaries! Life would be in the palm of their hands. He could pass Judgement and save believers, leaving the heretics to burn in Hellfire. Destruction would have no meaning, and NO ONE, save the god he devoted his life for, could declare them his better!

Hurriedly stumbling out of the Forbidden Section, laughing all the while, the priest began looking for chalk and a ritual knife.

He had work to do.

* * *

With a beatific smile, the priest - no, he reminded himself; he was now High Seer of Cuatal - admired the growing crowd of followers and recruits alike, gathering to witness the realization of their faith.

It had been two short months since he found the book and orb, and in that brief amount of time, he had cemented his position as Samsara's blessed child, the meaning of Cycles in human form. With many restless nights of fervent studying, he found secret after forbidden secret within the text and displayed his accomplishments to his faithful.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he raised his arms to quiet the crowd before delivering his speech. "Acolytes of Cuatal, devotees of Samsara, I welcome you to my humble teaching. We are all here because of our Faithful Lord. He chose to begin our Life; He decreed the events that would happen in our existence. Be it Judgement for misdeeds and Hellfire as punishment, be it Ascending and ruling over others, be it new Life and Destruction, _ALL_ must first start at the beginning, the Cycle. Some of you might still cling to the old beliefs, that all the Xenian gods are equal. _You are wrong._"

The High Seer allowed a moment to pass as he silently basked in the hushed whispering before resuming his speech. "The gods may be equal in status, but role and power have a silent role in upheaving this so-called balance. Empires rise and fall according to the great Cycle. Life cannot start without a beginning. Because of the blessings of the Creators, Samsara was given the sacred duty of upholding this law. We, children of the _true_ deity, should spread our faith, our superiority to the others in and below Xenia, so that all of us may share in this blessing!" The Seer's voice had magnanimously swelled over the course of the speech, passion and promise embroidered into every word. He looked over his audience and saw only eyes of approval, understanding, and rapture.

In the back of the crowd, a voice shouted, "Blasphemous heathen! You're nothing but honeyed lies!"

In unison, all eyes turned to look at a boy, looking about seventeen of age. He was thin and tall, and his brown hair was unruly and curly. Judging from his robes, the Seer decided he was one of the students just starting their studies on the church.

Narrowing his eyes into a interested smile, the Seer slowly crooned, "I see. We have someone who does not completely believe." Lightly beckoning the boy with one arm, he continued, "Come up, lad. I will see if I can fix your confusion." The Seer took slight satisfaction in the brief spark of fear in the boy's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by determination and youthful confidence as he walked towards the podium.

The Seer placed on hand on the boy's shoulder, causing the youth to jump slightly. The elder man smiled. "What is it that you do not understand, young one? Perhaps I can help enlighten you and help you believe."

The boy scowled, blurting out, "What makes you think you're so high and mighty, preaching like we're better than the other gods? I bet your so called miracles were nothing but parlor tricks that have somehow managed to deceive everyone. So what if you can turn chicks into hens or return a table to a tree? Until I see something that is obviously a miracle, I won't believe you!"

"I see... Well then, would you help me show this miracle?" With a nod to two priests by him, the boy was held down by his arms, kneeling before the Seer.

Ignoring the boy's protests and struggling, the Seer turned back to the crowd. "To all who had less courage than this brave youth, those who have a shadow of a doubt..." A priest brought before him a wicked, curved dagger resembling the upper jaw of a dragon. It was called a ritual dagger, but the shape and design was clearly meant for tearing through flesh and bone like a saw to cheese. "Witness this miracle!"

The boy's eyes widened in horrific revelation. He knew what was coming.

The church was dead silent, save for the sound of cutting and hacking and the agonizing, nightmarish screams of the boy as the Seer stabbed, tore, and slashed through his arms, legs, and body. He proceeded to stab every vital organ at least once, paying no heed to the whimpering, gasps, or blood spraying on every inch of his front. For good measure, the Seer decapitated the corpse, the head making a splash in the puddle of blood.

Panting and with manic eyes, the Seer turned back towards the crowd, which visibly backed away in revulsion and terror.

"Did you just... see that?!"

"He murdered a boy in cold blood!"

"What miracle is this supposed to be?"

"_Silence!_" The Seer caught his breath before responding between pants, "As you clearly see, this boy is dead. However, shortly afterwards, Samsara whispered to me that he was one of the faithful, but needed time. With his blessing..."

Swaying from side to side, the High Seer began chanting in slowly building fervor. As the oration began to increase in intensity, those who could use magic gasped as they felt an enormous flow of power reaching towards the mangled corpse. The miracle taking hold, severed head and limbs reassembled with nary a mark and spilt blood formed rivulets as it flowed back into the body. In the span of a few minutes, the boy's body was whole. The priest stopped his chant.

The boy gasped for breath as he slowly sat up. "What..." Groggily, he stumbled to his feet before looking around. "I had... the weirdest dream." The High Seer smiled triumphantly.

"Do you see! With Samsara's blessing, the faithful will never meet the end of their Cycle! We can cast out those who pretend, and our beliefs will be pure forever!" Addressing the boy, he tugged at his bloody robes while pointing to the boy's torn one, laughing maniacally. "Do you see this blood? _It's yours._ Do you remember the pain of being dismembered? _I did it._ Those holes in your clothing? _ I made them with this dagger._ Having been a witness to a miracle firsthand, do you believe now? DO YOU?!"

"Y-y-yes, sir..."

"WE HAVE A NEW BELIEVER!" The High Seer paid no attention to the fearful look in the boy's eyes. He cared not if he truly believed. All there was was the adoration and belief of the audience before him and their thunderous applause. Death now held no meaning to them.

It made for the greatest fanatic soldiers.

* * *

Samsara wanted to intervene. He had to, else the balance of Xenia will be destroyed and replaced with chaos. Yet, he was already fighting a battle with his own mind.

From the moment the High Seer found the book and false orb, dark whispers of power interrupted the God of Cycles's meditation. It was as if an evil serpent hid in the shadows and struck with corrupting venom when he first used the god's power to perform his rituals. It ordered him to rule Xenia. It demanded him to give in to his own power. It tried to persuade him to turn against the other gods.

He was losing to it.

Worried that his believers - no, he reminded himself. They were no longer truly believers, but fanatics to that insolent human's will. He ordered Vanessa, his one true guardian, to forbid any from entering, not willing to risk their corruption in his private domain. Yet, he had not heard from the female druid in a long time. Is she still standing vigil? Or has the darkness...

Samsara had realized too late that his own power had been the cause of the malefic affliction, and despite sealing his powers with a purple-blue mask, slowly felt himself go mad due to the voice. In a final desperate attempt, he cried out to the strongest group of souls in Aernas:

_ Help! Please, help us! The darkness has descended upon the land of the gods. If this place falls out of balance, then all of Aernas will be... in danger... as well..._

Sealing the area where he resided, he slowly drifted into meditation to stave off any evil ideas. Samsara found it silly and a little ironic, but he, as a god, prayed to the Creators that something, someone, would stop this evil. This area is on the edge of Xenia and it is still this bad, he realized.

The other gods must have it much worse.


End file.
